Eddie’s hand wrapped around my wrist and he pul ed me out of bed.
“Eddie!” I said while being dragged across the room, “I deserve at least one snooze button hit. I was kidnapped and nearly raped last night.”
He stopped, I bumped into him and looked up.
Um… eek!
“We don’t joke about that either,” he said.
“I wasn’t joking,” I told him.
His hands went to the t-shirt I was wearing, then up and then it was gone.
“You’l feel better after the shower.”
He wasn’t wrong.
* * * * *
I went back to bed after the shower and Eddie went to work. When I final y woke up and stumbled into the bathroom, I realized after I looked into the mirror that Trixie’s new hairdo did have a weakness; you didn’t sleep on it after it got wet.
One word: scary.
I pul ed the bandage off my temple to see the graze had scabbed over. I wet my hair, picked up the discarded t-shirt on the way back to the bedroom, put it on and stared at my bag on the floor. Somewhere along the line, it had exploded. There hadn’t been a whole lot of time to keep things tidy.
Therefore, I tidied.
First, I cal ed Fortnum’s and told them I’d be in late, or maybe not at al .
Then, I stripped the bed, found the stairs off the kitchen that led to the basement and stuffed the sheets in the laundry. I found some more sheets and made the bed, then I cleaned the house.
The whole time I was thinking.
The night before, Eddie took me to the station to talk to Detective Marker and make my statement so they could press charges. Then he took me for a quick visit to Dad who was stil asleep and his condition was unchanged.
Then we went to Eddie’s and Eddie had chil i while everyone put me under the microscope.
Once they’d ascertained that I was okay and not under imminent threat of suffering nervous col apse, they al went home. Eddie gave me a t-shirt and we went to bed.
Now, it was over and I was safe. Slick and Vince were locked up and Dad was hanging in there.
Over.
Safe.
Back to Just Jet.
It actual y didn’t take a lot of thought to make my decision, it was easy.
I got dressed, put on some makeup and pul ed my hair in a ponytail. I cal ed Lottie to pick me up, packed my bag and al my junk from the kitchen and cleaned out the coffee maker.
Lottie showed up in her rental and took me back to my apartment.
“You okay?” she asked on the way home, sliding her eyes to me.
“I’d be more okay if everyone would quit asking me if I was okay,” I told her.
“We care,” she sounded kind of pissy.
I sighed.
“I’m okay.”
“What’s with al the stuff? You moving back home?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Why?”
“It’s over.”
“What’s over?” she asked.
I looked out the side window.
“Al of it.”
“Jet…”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Jet…”
I turned to her, “I said, I don’t want to talk about it.” She gave me a glare.
“You’re a pain in the ass, you now that?”
“Yeah,” I said, “I know.”
* * * * *
We lugged my stuff up the stairs. I avoided a Mom Talk (even though I could tel she real y wanted one) by putting in a load of laundry and hightailing it back out.
I got in my car for the first time in two weeks and started it. It purred like a kitten.
Wonderful. Who would have ever thought I’d want my car to be cantankerous?
I went to the Credit Union and waved to Jody and Amy and knocked on Nicki, the Manager’s, door.
“Hey Jet!” she said when she saw me, then her eyes got big, “Holy cow! What happened to your head?”
“Gunshot wound,” I replied as if I suffered one every day and her big eyes nearly popped out of her head.
I ignored it.
“Can I talk to you?” I asked.
We talked. I asked for my job back. She said they didn’t have any positions open. Then she told me she’d give me a cal when they did.
I talked with Jody and Amy for awhile, keeping the subject off my gunshot wound (even though both their eyes kept straying to it) and al my recent travails.
Then I went to Smithie’s. Smithie was open al day, but his day crew was second string. It wasn’t a nice thing to say but it was an honest thing to say.
I swung in.
“Wel look who’s here. I hear you got your shit sorted last night,” Smithie said when I walked in.
I was learning quick that Darius had a big mouth.
I nodded to him.
LaTeesha, one of Smithie’s women, was standing in front of him at the bar. Smithie had clothes in the closets of four different women and they didn’t seem to mind sharing.
This could be because a little of Smithie went a long way. It also could be that Smithie had a big enough heart to keep them al happy. It could be a bit of both.
“Hey girlfriend, how’s it goin’?” LaTeesha asked, pul ing me into a hug.
“Much better now, thanks,” I told her and hugged her back.
When she let go, I turned to Smithie.
“Can I have my job back?” I asked.
His eyebrows shot up. “Thought your sister was gonna help out.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“Then why do you need two jobs?”
“I’m quitting Fortnum’s, this pays better.” Smithie stared at me, then he looked at LaTeesha, then back at me.
“What does your cop boyfriend think of that?”
“We’re breaking up,” I said.
Smithie looked back at LaTeesha, she was biting her lip and looking at me.
“Come a-fuckin’-gain?” Smithie said, his eyes back to me.
“We’re breaking up.”
“Breaking, not broken?” Smithie asked.
“I haven’t told him yet.”
More looks between Smithie and LaTeesha.
“You wanna tel LaTeesha about it?” she asked.
I shook my head but smiled.
“I just want to know if I can come back to work here.” Smithie sighed.
“Once a Smithie’s girl, always a Smithie’s girl. You want to come back you start Monday night. You don’t want to come back, I don’t f**kin’ care. You’l always be welcome here, wearin’ an apron or havin’ a drink. Though, I think you should let your sister work for awhile and just have the drink, but what do I f**kin’ know? I also don’t think you should be breakin’ up with a boyfriend who’d put his ass on the line for you.”